


Helping Hand

by bamby0304



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Explicit Language, F/M, Female Ejaculation, Fluff, Sex, Smut, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 00:57:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16863217
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bamby0304/pseuds/bamby0304
Summary: You’re frustrated. You need sex, you need that release, but you just can’t get yourself there. It just doesn’t feel… right. Sam notices your change in mood and tries to get you to tell him what’s wrong. When you open up, admit everything to him, you expect awkwardness and tension… instead, Sam lends a helping hand.





	Helping Hand

  


**_Warnings_ : Sexually frustrated reader. Low self-esteem issues. Sam questioning himself. A bit of angst. Tiniest amount of crack. Some added fluff. Smut. _Way_ more plot than I’d intended. Explicit language. Fingering. Squirting. Unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it, people). Seriously… the plot got away from me.**

**Bamby**

Your relationship with Sam was… unconventional. You weren’t together in the traditional sense, but there was something there. You’d been drawn to each other the instant you met, and after months of agonising flirting and curious glances, you both fell into bed in a tangle of limp, lips and lust.

It was pretty clear after that… once you’d had a taste you weren’t giving him up. Everyone has their vices, yours just happened to be the tall Winchester with shaggy hair and mesmerising eyes.

Only problem was… you were starting to feel guilty. Not about sleeping with Sam, but because of how much you were sleeping with him without actually _being_ with him.

Relationships didn’t work in your world. Hunting was too dangerous and demanding. Even if you were to hook up and start something with another hunter, you doubted it would work. Being together twenty-four seven, being in constant danger… it wasn’t exactly a recipe for an apple-pie life and happily ever after.

So, you’d taken a step back.

Sam hadn’t seemed to notice your lack of affection and flirtation. He didn’t seem to notice how you were avoiding being alone with him. He didn’t seem to notice how you spent more time in your room than with him and Dean during your downtime. He didn’t seem to notice the increase in your irritation and frustration.

After getting it on more nights than not for months on end, you’d gone cold turkey… and now you were suffering from Sam-withdrawals.

You tried to relieve the pressure building inside you, but you’d never really been into _that_. Not that there was anything wrong with touching yourself, you just couldn’t seem to get comfortable enough with the idea to actually enjoy yourself. It just always felt weird, like there should be someone else down there doing it for you. It felt like you were cheating yourself into a fake orgasm, which meant you could never get to that point.

Frustration growing, you did everything you could to distract yourself. Diving into research mode, hunting for cases, searching for leads on the next possible big-bad. You drowned yourself in work hoping it would give you a reprieve from your personal dilemma.

It didn’t last long, though.

Working more meant spending more time with Sam. It meant going to bars with the Winchesters and watching as they flirted up a storm with every gorgeous set of boobs with legs. Sure, you got a few looks, and you’d tried a few guys on for size in an attempt to find a cure to your ache. But your story seemed to be stuck in Cinderella’s world, and none of the shoes fit.

There was only one man who would do. Only one man you wanted. Only one man who could get you to that point between panic and pleasure. Only one man who could have you screaming profanities at the lord- who’d personally noted how uncomfortable it was for him to hear you like that.

Sam was the only guy you wanted, and it was killing you.

Groaning, you glared at the book in front of you. For the last forty minutes, you’d read the same sentence over and over, getting nowhere. At breaking point now, you slammed the book shut and tossed it onto the next table in the library.

Of course Sam chose that exact moment to walk into the room.

Taking in the scene before him, Sam cautiously moved to the seat across from yours and sat. He grabbed a book, just as you did, the two of you pretending to research in silence. But neither of you were actually reading.

Instead, you sat there, shifting uncomfortably, hating how needy you felt. Sam, still across from you, kept glancing up without you noticing, watching you with concern and confusion.

You grunted in annoyance and dropped that book onto the table before letting your head follow and land on the hardcover with a _thunk_.

“Okay, that’s it.” Sighing, Sam put his own book down, turning his complete attention to you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you mumbled, voice muffled due to your head still resting on the book.

He scoffed. “Wanna try that again?”

Rolling your head slightly you shot him a glare. “I’m fine, Sam.”

Usually he’d back off and let you wallow in your own mood… but not tonight. “No. You’re not. You’ve been shitty for weeks now. What the hell is going on?”

You hadn’t realised he noticed your change in mood. You’d really thought he’d been oblivious… or that maybe you’d successfully been hiding your frustrations. Turns out you were the oblivious one, and he was just patient.

“Have I done something wrong?”

Shooting up from the table, back straight as a ruler, you looked at him with wide eyes and shook your head. “Of course not, Sam. You did nothing. You could never do something wrong. How could you think otherwise?”

He shrugged, averting his eyes. “I thought, you know… you’ve been distant…”

If you felt guilty before, you felt even worse now.

“Sam… it’s not you, I swear,” you tried to reassure him. “I’ve just… I know things are… I didn’t want…” Try as you might, you just didn’t know how to explain it to him without sounding as clingy as you felt. “God this is frustrating!” you exclaimed, head falling back onto the table.

“Hey,” he pushed the books aside, so nothing was between the two you, before reaching for your shoulder. “You can tell me. I’ll get it. I just… I can’t help if I don’t know what’s wrong.”

He really did mean well. Sam was a big teddy bear in moments like this. He was sweet, understanding, caring, empathetic. Sam really was great boyfriend material.

As embarrassing as it was, you knew you had to tell him. If you didn’t, you were going to combust, and he was going to keep pressing. If he didn’t know what was wrong he was going to keep thinking he was the problem, and you were going to feel worse and worse. You really had no choice here.

“I’m sexually frustrated but I don’t wanna jump your bones because I know it makes things complicated and I don’t want you to think you owe me or something,” you mumbled, forehead still pressed to the table.

Tension filled the air as his hand suddenly retreated from your shoulder.

You didn’t dare look up. You didn’t dare say a word. You didn’t dare move a muscle. Hell, you refused to breath, desperate to melt away before your embarrassment killed up both.

When he did speak, you really wish he hadn’t. “You’re sexually frustrated?”

Groaning, you nodded against the table. “Yes.”

“I don’t get it…”

Your head shot up. “What’s there not to get, Sam? Just because I’m a girl doesn’t mean I don’t have needs! I might have a vagina, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get metaphorical blue balls! Chicks want sex just as much as guys do!” you snapped harshly, purposefully, defensively.

Neither of you noticed Dean as he started towards the library, only to overhear your outburst and turn away with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. He was not going to step into that conversation. He wasn’t stupid, and he certainly didn’t have a death wish.

Sighing, exasperated, Sam shook his head. “I didn’t mean it like that, I swear. I just thought… I mean, I’ve seen you with guys,” he noted, trying to hide any trace of jealousy.

Realising your mistake, your anger deflated, replaced with that same discomfort you’d been stuck with for far too long now. “Yeah, well, they didn’t scratch my itch. Only scratched their own,” you mumbled, fiddling with the frayed corner of an old book.

You didn’t notice the tick in Sam’s jaw as he tried to control himself. The mere thought of some guy using you just to get off made his blood boil. But instead of feeding that fire, he cleared his throat and focused on you. “Well what about doing it yourself? Have you tried that?”

He had to stifle the groan rumbling in his chest that came with the picture now stuck in his mind. You, lying on your bed, that doe eyed look you got every time you reached the edge of bliss, your own fingers curling into your core, thrusting, deeper and deeper…

“Of course I tried… but I couldn’t.”

The quiet and nervous sound of your voice pulled Sam from his thoughts as he turned his attention back to you. You were worrying your lip between your teeth, still fidgeting with the book’s frayed edge as you purposefully refused to look up and meet his gaze.

“What do you mean you couldn’t?” he asked curiously, knowing he probably should drop the subject and walk out of the room before things got even more uncomfortable…

You shrugged. “I tried, but I just… I can’t get _there_.”

“Really?” He sounded genuinely confused and surprised.

“Yes, really!” you snapped again, shooting him a glare before averting your eyes once more.

Against his better judgement, Sam pressed, “Why?”

“Because it feels wrong,” you admitted.

His back straightened suddenly. “There’s nothing wrong with touching yourself. It’s perfectly normal. Natural, even.”

“I know that,” you assured him. “That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean?” His curiosity was growing into concern.

Shifting uncomfortable, you lifted your legs up onto your seat, trying to make yourself be as small as possible. You really wished he would just drop it and leave… but he wasn’t going anywhere, so why hold back, right? “It feels like I’m cheating. It’s not intimate enough. Like, I just can’t get there. I try, I really do, but it’s missing something. It just doesn’t feel right doing something like that… by myself.”

“If you don’t wanna do it by yourself… why didn’t you just ask?” There was that uncertain tone in his voice again. “I thought we were doing good, then you just stopped. Was I not good-”

You cut him off before he could fall down that hole, “Sam, no. It’s not you. I swear. I just felt like I was using you. I didn’t want things to get too complicated, so I thought if I gave us some distance I could get you out of my system. Obviously, that didn’t work.”

He frowned, confused. “What do you mean?”

 _Yep, you’re gonna do this. No turning back now._ “I mean… no one else can get me there because all I want is you.”

Silence.

Tension.

He blinked.

You blinked.

The awkwardness stretched on until you were certain you could tie it into a noose and hang yourself with it. You might as well. After all your confessions you doubted Sam was ever going to talk to you again, and that thought alone had your chest hurting.

He watched you closely and carefully, considering the options and his next move, before he spoke up and broke the silence. “I could still help you.”

“Then I’m gonna feel guilty,” you tried to explain. “I don’t want things to be weird between us, but if we keep sleeping together then people are gonna figure it out, and there’s gonna be all these expectations, and stuff is just gonna be a mess, and I can’t have that on my conscience…”

“How about this… how about you guide me through the process, and then I’m the bad one?” he offered. “You’re frustrated. You need to get off, but you can’t do it yourself and no one else has given you the time to get there. So, why don’t I do it for you? Let me help you.”

The way he said it, like making a simple business proposal. If anyone else were to overhear the conversation you’d be surprised if they figured out you two were talking about Sam helping you with your sexual frustration.

“You wanna have sex with me… to help me?”

“No.” He quickly shook his head. “No sex.”

“How is that supposed to work then?”

He just gave you a pointed look. “Do you trust me?”

There was no hesitation before you answered, “Of course.”

Pushing the chair out, he stood, purposefully, determined. Walking around the table he offered you his hand, standing there patiently, silently, giving you the option to back out if you really wanted to.

But you were curious. Too curious not to take his hand and let him lead you out of the library.

They say curiosity killed the cat… but if you were going to die by the hands of Sam, then you weren’t too sure if that was a bad thing…

Leading you through the bunker, neither of you spoke as Sam brought you to your room. His was closer to the library, but you got the feeling he wanted you to be comfortable with whatever he had planned. Sam was nice like that.

As soon as your door was closed, he was pulling you to him, his free hand coming up to cup your cheek as he leaned down. His lips didn’t capture yours like you thought they would, though. Instead it was his eyes that had you melt.

He was looking at you with a softness that had your heart skipping and your cheeks flushing red. He was silently reassuring you, promising you this would be good for you. He was letting you know he was there, for the right reasons… for you.

Sex with Sam was never slow. It was never gentle. It was never caring.

Sex with Sam was rough, hard, needy and wild. He tossed you around like a doll. He bit and marked you however he wanted. He turned you into positions you never thought you’d be able to get into. He made you scream until you had no voice and nothing more to give. Sex with Sam was intense and gave you everything you needed.

This time was different.

When his lips did reach yours he barely brushed them together, barely kissed you. It was a flutter, a touch, a tease. His hand let go of yours and came up to cup your other cheek and the light brushes of his lips to yours continued. As soon as you started to swoon he began to lead you both to your bed. Not once did his lips move from yours. Not once did his hands drop from your face.

Reaching the bed, Sam gently and carefully guided you down onto your mattress. Once you were down his hands left your cheeks and reached for the buttons of your shirt, his lips still torturing you. One by one, he pulled you buttons apart until he could tug your shirt open completely, revealing your bare chest to him.

You weren’t wearing a bra. You hadn’t thought of throwing one on, thinking the night would be spent distracting yourself with research. You kinda wished you’d put something on that would get a reaction out of him. Something lacy and sexy maybe.

In your own head, thinking too much, you weren’t prepared for Sam to pinch one of your nipples, igniting some of that usual heat that burned the two of you whenever you fell into bed like this.

As you gasped out of shock he pressed his lips to yours in a deep kiss, taking the breath from your lungs. You moaned against him, sinking into the Sam that only came out behind closed doors.

He pulled back too soon, his eyes raking over your form. “You are so beautiful,” he groaned before coming back down to press a quick kiss to your lips once more. Moving to your ear, he tugged on your lobe as he spoke again, “What do you want? What do you _need_?”

_Oh, God!_

“Don’t want slow, Sam,” you breathed, eyes rolling back as he licked your throat. “Been too long. Just want you. Need you. _Please._ ”

Clicking his tongue, he shook his head. “No sex. Not tonight,” he reminded you. “Tonight is all about you.”

It all fell into place then. What he’d said and what he’d meant… you understood. He was going to give you what you’d needed. He was going to give you the pleasure no one else had managed or bothered to give you. He was going to get you to that point you couldn’t get to on your own. He was going to do it all… with just his hands.

_Fuck!_

This whole ordeal was foreign to you. You’d never specifically told someone exactly what to do while in bed with them. You just let everything happen naturally. You both got what you needed out of it. So the idea of directing Sam to your own pleasure made you feel both excited and nervous.

If you were going to do it, might as well go all out.

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned your head enough so you could meet his eyes again. “Clothes off. Slowly. Try not to touch me. Just… just light brushes, ‘kay?” Your voice shook, telling him just how you were feeling.

“Hey.” He reached up with one of his hands, tucking your hair behind your ear. “Breath. Relax. Don’t think too much. Just talk… and enjoy.” He gave you a shockingly sexy grin before pulling back.

One tug on your hand had you sitting up so he could slip your shirt off. His lips ghosted over your shoulder, breath fanning over your back as his fingers _slowly_ dragged the material away from your arms. When he tossed it to the side he stayed where he was, kneeling on the bed, towering over you, his nose brushing your neck ever so lightly.

Tingles spread across your skin, a shiver running down your spin. Your eyes fluttered closed, head falling to the side to give him better access.

Gently, he led you back down to the bed, his face moving from your neck. His eyes took you in as you lay there, breathing heavily, chest heaving. He could see the thump of your heart as it pounded against your rib cage.

It took everything in him not to just take you like he wanted.

But, like he’d said, tonight was about you. He’d had a few one-night-stands since you’d distanced yourself. He’d gotten himself off the nights he hadn’t tumbled around with someone else. Didn’t take much to get him there, really. Just one thought of you and he was ready to burst.

Not tonight, though. He wasn’t going to be selfish like those assholes you’d gone home with. He wasn’t going to take what he wanted and leave you more flustered than you already were. He was going to give you what you needed.

Reaching for your pants, he untied the string of your comfy cotton shorts- that you reserved for lounging around the bunker in- and slowly began to slide them down your legs. He did as you’d requested, hardly touching you on the way down. As he did as he was told, he watched you wriggle on the bed, squirming at the sensations his barely-there touch gave you.

As Sam slipped your shorts from your legs you heard the wanting and appreciative growl the reverberated from his chest.

“Sam,” you breathed. “Touch me, please. You want to. I know you do, too.” You squirmed on the bed, wanting nothing more than Sam buried deep inside you.

“Not tonight,” he said through gritted teeth.

You gotta admit, the guy had some crazy good self-control.

When it came to your underwear though… Sam was less patient and teasing.

He tried. He really did. But the heat coming off your skin, and the sounds slipping from between your lips… how could he resist?

Gripping your panties, he tore them from your body, tearing a gasp out of you at the same time. He just needed to see you, to smell you… God, he wanted to _taste_ you.

“What now?” He was breathing hard, seeking instruction in the hopes it’ll distract him from the thoughts running through his mind.

Your eyes peeked open, seeing the way his were devouring you where he knelt. It was too much for you to bare witness to. You were just about ready to explode just from that dark look in his eyes. You couldn’t do this if you could see him…

With a groan, you rolled onto your side, still watching him as you patted the spot behind you. Sam needed no words to understand. In an instant he was lying down, his chest pressed to your back.

Something was wrong…

“Shirt.” You reached around to tug on the offending material. “Need to feel your skin, Sam.”

He wasted no time, tearing his shirt off, leaving his chest bare before he pressed it to your back once more. You both groaned at the feel of skin on skin, the feet wafting off both of you melding together, adding to the lust that was already thick in the air.

“Touch me,” you told him, barely able to speak with how hard you were panting.

Grunting, he lifted a hand to rest it on your bare waist. “How? Need you to tell me.”

Done with the teasing, wanting him to touch you already, you hiked your leg up, hooking it behind his to open yourself up before you grabbed his hand and pressed it to your core.

“That’s how,” you told him a little smugly and completely breathlessly.

Sam groaned low, his fingers taking over, no longer seeking orders. You’d pushed him where he’d been trying to steer clear from. You’d thrown him in the deep end, and now he was long gone. If you wanted Sam to touch you, then that’s what he was going to do.

Two fingers were thrust into you, hard and deep. You cried out in pleasure, feeling that spark you’d missed the last few months.

As Sam worked you up to the edge, thrusting and curling his fingers, you pushed into him, taking everything you could.

His lips attached to where your shoulder and neck met. Sucking at the spot, he worked his fingers faster, pressing the pad of his palm to your clit as he pushed against the spot inside you that had you squirming under his touch until something snapped inside you… and suddenly you were gushing for him.

“Fuck…” he breathed as you continued to thrust and wriggle against his hand, silent screams frozen in your throat.

When the stars that had clouded your vision began to clear, and your lungs managed to find your breath again, you sagged into the bed, your leg falling from Sam’s as every cell inside you sang with bliss and praise.

Despite being exhausted, you turned to face him, a lazy smile on your lips. His eyes were dark, full of his own lust. But there was more there… it was almost as if he was looking at you in awe…

That look in his eyes had your heart jumping and thighs clenching…

Taking a chance, knowing what you wanted, you broke the silence, “I know you said tonight’s about me, but-”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence before his lips were crashing onto yours, taking the breath from your lungs once more as he shifted you both. You rolled onto your back as he got to his knees, working on the button and zip of his jeans frantically, while keeping his lips locked onto yours.

As soon as he was freed from the restraints of his pants, he lined himself up, and with one thrust, he was buried inside you.

He groaned. The sound vibrated through him, right to where you were both connected, pulling a moan from your own lips.

Feeling him inside you, deep, completely buried into your sensitive and throbbing core… it was too much for both of you. You weren’t going to last.

Sam came to the same conclusion, and in that moment he decided that if it was going to be fast… it was going to be hard.

Pulling out almost completely, Sam thrust back into you, slamming his hips into yours. He set the pace, working fast, hard, deep and long. He made sure to push and pull and press into every part of you that had your back arching into him, and your eyes rolling.

“Got no idea how much I’ve wanted you,” he grunted, gripping your thighs to pull them apart as he watched where you were connected. “Fuck, never had it as good as you. So tight. So fucking warm. Way you come undone just for me…” he groaned.

The sounds slipping from your lips were cross between pants and whimpers. “Sam.”

“That’s right.” He thrust harder. “Need me, don’t you?”

“Yes. Yes! _Yes!_ ” You cried.

He fell forward, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he lifted on thigh to wrap around him so he could push further into you. Deeper. All the way. He wanted it all. He wanted all of you. Only you.

When he came his pace faltered only slightly. He pushed himself into you and buried his seed deep in your core. His release pushed you into your own, and you screamed into his mouth, digging your nails into his back as everything inside you burst from pure and utter heaven.

A few seconds passed where Sam stayed above you, barely managing to hold his weight on the elbows digging into the bed rather than squashing you. When he calmed himself from his climax he then moved, slipping out of you as he rolled over to lay by your side.

Heavy panting filled the room, both of your chests heaving as you looked up at the roof.

“Thanks,” you breathed, rolling your head to look at him. “Needed that.”

He chuckled lightly. “No problem.”

Lips pulling into a smile, you turned back to looking up at the roof, enjoying the buzz rippling through your body. Sam had well and truly worked you over.

“Do you really think I’m just in it for the sex?”

The question hung in the air as your buzz began to falter. This was not a conversation you wanted to have right after having two of the best orgasms in your life.

Sighing, you rolled onto your side. “Sam…”

“I’m not, you know,” he started. “If that’s all you want, I’m okay with it, really. But I wouldn’t mind more. Kinda already thought we were more.”

“You did?”

“Yeah,” he answered as if that should be obvious. “I mean… I’ve been in love with your for as long as I can remember. I just assumed you knew that, and you felt the same way.” He shrugged so casually.

“You l-lo… you love me?”

Hearing the stutter in your voice, he turned to you then, seeing the confusion and panic in your eyes. “Oh, crap.” Rolling over completely, he lifted a hand to tuck your hair behind your ear. “Please don’t freak out and run. Don’t think I can handle you ignoring me again.”

“Wasn’t ignoring you. Just didn’t wanna be clingy,” you mumbled, trying not to let the bubbling in your chest freak you out.

He smiled sweetly at you. “I like you being clingy. I like it when you come to me for help. Last few months have been killing me. Seeing you with other guys.”

“You were with other girls,” you countered.

“Didn’t take one home until I saw you leave with a guy,” he countered. “Thought that was your not to subtle way of ending things between us. Thought if I could take a girl home I could get you out of my head. Didn’t work… just like it didn’t work for you.”

“Mm-hmm,” you hummed. “So… what now?”

“Was kinda hoping you’d be my girlfriend,” he shrugged, a cheeky grin slipping into place.

You pretended to think about it for a second before asking, “We gonna have sex like we just did?”

“Every chance I get, I’m taking you. Never had a girl come like that before… gonna wanna do that at least a thousand more times. _At least_.”

Blushing, a little embarrassed, you gave a short nod. “’Kay, I’m in.”

“Good.” Cupping your cheek, he pulled you to him for another deep kiss that took your breath away.

Quickly, before the kiss could lead to something more, you pulled back, needing to say something. Sam looked at you, confused, question in his eyes.

“I love you, too you know.”

His face broke out in the widest and happiest smile before he rolled himself over until he was hovering over you once more, ready to give you another helping hand.

**Bamby**


End file.
